


Kairos

by Plutonic_5



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Violence, M/M, Mutant Society, Reincounters, Sedation, Superpowers, Time Travel, electricution, vitiligo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25985629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plutonic_5/pseuds/Plutonic_5
Summary: KAIROS (n.) — the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement.
Relationships: Darkiplier/Antisepticeye, Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Kairos

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I'm back with another AU! This time, we´re going to dive in on some Danti shit lmao.
> 
> I also just finished the Netflix series Dark, which I highly recommend, and this AU is highly influenced by it!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_MOIRA (n.) — a person´s_ _fate or destiny._

* * *

He zipped up his raincoat and brushed his hair back under the yellow hood. His stolen boots were way too large for his feet, and the broken screen of his phone was already sloppy from the droplets of water. 

He hated rain. It always made him so slow.

He put his phone back in his pocket and left the warehouse, keeping a low profile crossing the street. As much as he could be quite obnoxious, people weren’t ready to see a green haired man glitching in and out of existence in midst Wednesday afternoon.

There was a sketchy bar right at the corner of the block, and besides the shitty weather, it seemed to be full. He could hear laughter, cursing, and broken glass — nothing could get in between an angry man and the unnecessary urge to break property. 

Now, rest assured, he wasn’t the most mature man that ever stepped on Earth nor he intended to be. But whenever he got angry or restless, he wouldn’t punch a wall or turn the table tops in a fit. 

No, what he’d do something a little less pathetic.

He stepped inside the bar, pulling his hood back. He was dripping wet, but no one seemed to mind, since the place wasn’t exactly the cleanest environment he had been. 

No one seemed to pay him any mind, which was precisely what he was waiting for an exhaustive day. He pulled a stool next to the balcony and signaled the bartender to get him two shots of straight vodka.

Even though he wasn’t trying to call for any eyes, he definitely stood out in the crowd — the people in that place were brute, definitely up to something shady. Some had beards and chains, others wore dresses with a bunch of faded 90s tattoos. Not that he minded, but his lanky, strange looking figure contrasted a lot, even with the layers of raincoat and jackets. 

His face was slimmer, sharper. His nose crooked from when he broke it the 4th time two months ago, and the tips of his pointy ears weren’t that even either. His fingernails were… disgusting, not that any straight man would notice, and his fingers had a few splotches of white in his already pale skin. 

His skin condition never bothered him much, but it did draw some weird looks since he was a kid. Part of his eyebrows and eyelashes were pure white, and some of his hair also had it. He didn’t care about the hair part though, since recently he had decided to dye it dark green entirely because _fuck it, people look at me weird already anyway._

The dye didn’t really stick well to the white hairs, so he had retouch it a lot. 

Besides his sense of style, the green hair and stick figure body didn’t work on his favor on blending in. He got a few dirty looks, but didn’t feel threatened — he knew he was the most dangerous person in the room.

The bartender tossed two shot glasses on his direction, of which he promptly downed in one go. The drink felt hot, burning down his throat as he drowned the sounds out.

It was a communal consensus, really. 

He pretended to be normal and not see the abnormalities in the room, the rest each did the same. But they were everywhere, _like an infestation_ , as the news called it. 

To the unpolished eye, it was almost impossible to catch it.

But he could see how the bartender made up the drinks way too quickly, his several hands moving under the balcony. The couple at table three's body gestures implied they were having a heated conversation inside each other's mind, that no one else could hear. The blond kid that now sat in the right corner of the bar was probably responsible for the shitty rain — his skin was covered in lightning scars.

He could spot muddy feathers on the floor, coming right behind a lady with a shaved head wearing a big coat. An empty table had shot glasses that moved on their own, probably an invisible _cammo_. They were everywhere and, even though his demeanor stood out in the place, somehow he fitted right in. 

And to think everyone in that room could be considered a God, a few millennia ago. But they were shunned to a filthy bar on Wednesday night instead. Either way, he asked for one more shot, eyelids already a bit heavy. He could feel a familiar buzz under his skin — _no more drinks, I guess._ He couldn’t afford to glitch right now. Blips didn’t have the best reputation as a species.

As he reached for his pocket to get some tips to the bartender, he could feel a pair od eyes on him. He was being watched.

Carefully and nonchalantly, he slipped his hair back under the hood of his jacket and left the bar by the back door. It was still pouring outside. He checked the time. 

_02:06am._

His fingers drum anxiously against his leg, reaching for the hold of his dagger. His eyes dart around and walks down the sidewalk.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the long day of kills he had. Whatever was the reason, he reacted a second too late to a hooded shadow pushed him to the ground. 

He looked up, but the shadow was already behind him again. Super speed. Right.

Freaks with super speed were almost impossible to catch — but, luckily, so was him.

He glitched up behind the shadow, getting him on a choke hold. “Messed with the wrong glitch, _speedie_ ”.

The figure huffed, hitting him in the sternum with their elbow then quickly kicking his feet under him. “I’m pretty sure I got the right one,” he said.

Three more people joined the scene, and one of them opened his mouth to emit a sound that disoriented his head. He glitched once again, stumbling on his feet, the noise was in such an _annoying_ frequency. He attacked the one of the left, his knife now on a firm grip. 

The blade sunk at their side in the blink of an eye. He could have had the other three killed by now so quickly if he wasn’t so tired. The figure wailed, dropping to the ground and clutching their side. 

His first attacker ran around him ungodly fast. He blipped to the fraction of a second that was a gap on the new made tornado that closed in on him, bumping into the runner full force, both dropping on the concrete. He raised his knife, but as he was about to strike, a third party hit him in the head with unhuman strength.

“Fuck,” he muttered with blood dripping down his ear, falling sideways off his victim.

He was about to glitch again when a hand pushed him down by his shoulder, sending a blinding, excruciatingly powerful electric current over his body. 

He screamed, body spasming against his will. His eyes screwed closed, gritting his teeth. He could feel his own heart contract for way too long, and it felt like his skin was on fire.

He hated being electrocuted. The energetic wave worked like an invisible cape over him, making his body unable to glitch away.

He couldn’t breathe. His form was paralyzed, stuck in place, uselessly trying to blip out.

Someone pulled his hood off, getting a good look at his horrified face. He couldn’t feel his hands, his lungs struggling to get some air as he screamed and screamed, body looking glitchy and fuzzy like a broken TV screen.

And then, after a few more dreadful seconds, a needle was shoved through his neck, and the person shocking him moved away.

He gasped, unable to move still, but it was too late — they had sedated him. He could feel it numbing down his limbs. 

His body slowly relaxed as he tried to draw in wild breaths. 

A few twitches in and out of sight, and his vision went black.

* * *

He wheezed back to consciousness after what seemed like weeks, pupils wide darting from side to side. He was tied to a chair, hands behind his back.

His fingers twitched, and his skin itched like a thousand bugs crawled over him. He was _really_ dizzy, body spasming a little still — side effects from electrocution.

“I apologize for such a crude method,” a voice called out. “I wish I didn’t have to resort to such… _shocking_ measures.”

He closed his eyes. He knew that voice.

“ _Dark_.”

The man grinned. “Anti.”

“I could… kill you… in a fraction of second.” He said.

“Oh, you definitely would be able to,” the voice chuckled. “The restraints are mere formality, by now. But we both know you couldn’t stand up straight even if you tried.”

The lights were too bright, but he knew exactly where he was — the room hadn’t changed after three years, and he was almost disappointed by how predictable that was. The ugly carpet was still red, and the dark wood desk probably still had knife marks on it. The strong smell of cologne and liquor still stained the walls, and the curtains behind him hid an amazing view of the city.

Fingers snapped in front of him.

“Are you not listening to me?”

“Have I ever?” Anti mumbled.

The man in front of him smirked. “Not really.”

He had a headache. It had been a while since he was last zapped, and it made his entire body slow. It was like a hangover but with no fun the night before.

“It really messes you up,” Dark commented, sounding almost surprised.

“Yeah, no shit.” He licked his dry lips squinting up. “A simple text would have done the trick.”

Dark sighed, leaning closer to his face. He grabbed his chin, looking him over.

“I have a feeling you’d have left me on read.”

Anti rolled his eyes. “How did you find me?” 

Dark's deep brown eyes studied his face, as if he was the new ugly painting in his private museum. And perhaps Anti was, in a way.

“Ah, that was certainly a challenge,” he said, “you can’t seem to stay still.”

Dark had always a way of finding people, that Anti knew. 

He also knew, that the man wouldn’t go through the trouble of finding him if whatever he wanted wasn’t important. Their last encounter had been less than friendly, and if he weren’t fuzzy with electricity they’d be throwing hands right now.

Dark's cold thumb caressed his cheek, then glanced up at his hair. “I like the new look.”

Anti shoved his face away from his touch, getting some feeling back at the tip of his fingers. 

His green eyes searched around the room and, in a quick decision, he glitched through the binds around his wrists, throwing Dark against the wall across the room.

The man smiled, as if the sharp tip of Anti's blade wasn’t about to carve his Adam's apple out of his neck.

Anti’s feet faltered, but he kept his stance. “Cut to the chase,” he said, “what do you want from me?”

The door of the office creaked, catching both men's attention.

“I see you’ve both made your introductions,” a blond man wearing a black hoodie pulled over his head and black baggy jeans.

The stranger's skin, however, gave his nature away — it was deep black with bright yellow splotches over his eyes, nose, and neck, like a poison dart frog. His eyes were deep black, as if the skin itself wasn’t terrifying enough. Anti rarely thought of himself as privileged in a world where humans treated him like trash for his mutation. 

But, looking at people like that guy, he considered himself lucky.

“Who’s the freak?” Anti asked, his knife still very much close to decapitating Dark.

“Said the faulty tech,” the man said, looking unbothered. 

Dark gently pushed Anti’s blade away, receiving a dirty look in return. He fixed his tie and cleared his throat.

“Anti, meet Infelix,” he said, “he’s part of the plan.”

“How unfortunate,” Anti commented. “Does anyone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

Infelix blinked at him, with an expression that screamed annoyance. “We got a hit to do.”

“More than that,” Dark said, looking at Anti. “We’re going to save time itself.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading it! Leave a comment to brighten my day! 
> 
> If you wanna chat about this AU, hit me up on Tumblr! @Plutonic-5


End file.
